


In Love

by coffeebuddha, rispacooper



Series: That Bones/Criminal Minds Cracky Crossover Love Story [10]
Category: Bones (TV), Criminal Minds
Genre: Age Difference, Awkwardness, Blow Jobs, Crack Pairing, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Deepthroating, First Time, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-25
Updated: 2012-03-25
Packaged: 2017-11-02 13:03:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeebuddha/pseuds/coffeebuddha, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rispacooper/pseuds/rispacooper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things have changed since that phone call. Or at least, Aaron can’t deny them anymore. (Woe! The feelings!) Or um…office sex/first time gaymansex? Awkwardness and sorta cuddles. Sequel to Just Keep Talking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Love

**Author's Note:**

> I assume because Quantico is a military base that the FBI jet lands on their airfield. If that’s wrong, oops. Also you should know that at some point we decided-- based entirely on one AU Bones episode--that Wendell has an oral fixation. Oh well.  
> Also, this isn't at all what was intended, but apparently, this is what Hotch wanted. ??? IDK. I should go back to making Reid watch porn.

Crazy wasn’t a word Aaron used with any frequency. He saw things on a daily basis that most people would consider shocking, depraved, or insane, but which he knew to be fairly common in the range of human behaviors. ‘Crazy’ had negative connotations to those with mental illnesses and as a descriptor it was vague at best.

But there was a sense, or lack of sense, to the word that suited the rapid beating of his heart and the heat in his skin that wouldn’t go away despite the cool evening air. He hadn’t eaten but his stomach felt both cold and full. Aaron recognized the symptoms and diagnosed himself in three words that he shortened to one when he found the three to be too overwhelming. 

He was missing sleep and good food. His head held images of blood and fear and death. He was in no condition to fight the inevitable, but he could put it off for a while and say simply, privately, that he felt a little crazy. 

If he said it out loud, Reid would probably offer him a dozen synonyms, better words for crazy with shades of different meaning in each one. But Aaron had no intention of saying anything out loud to anyone, not even to Dave, though it was only a matter of time before one of them said something to him. 

The others had noticed his tension, steering clear of him after a few curious, lingering looks. Aaron didn’t try to fool them and perhaps they were silent out of respect, though he assumed that their exhaustion also played a role. He’d held his phone in his hand through the short car ride carrying them in from the airfield, but it was only as they neared the complex of buildings that he caught Dave’s watchful gaze on him, giving him the silent order to use it. 

He didn’t make a call. He’d called Jessica already and learned Jack was at a birthday party and Aaron could pick him up after. There was one other person to call, but having someone else to call, someone who might care where he was, was a relatively new idea and Aaron was trying to keep it from consuming his thoughts. The kick in his pulse each time he thought of Wendell said that it was futile effort. 

It was only the thought of how he might react to hearing Wendell’s voice over the phone that kept Aaron from calling in front of the team. He thought, frankly, that he couldn’t trust himself with Wendell’s voice in his ear. Not with the memory of Wendell breathing heavily and touching himself to thoughts of Aaron, and Wendell lying back in his bed and talking the mundane details of his day for hours to help Aaron relax. 

It had been a surprising call on many levels. Aaron hadn’t even realized he was going to call Wendell until the phone was in his hand and ringing, and when Wendell had answered, the conversation hadn’t been what he’d expected. He should have known that Wendell would hear about Foyet, he just hadn’t thought it would be so soon, and even now, knowing that they still had to have that conversation, Aaron wasn’t sure what he should say. 

Wendell’s anger had been justified even if some of what he’d said had been immature. Aaron should talk to him more, and about things that mattered. Of course, that was easier said than done with their often conflicting schedules and the way that what Aaron wanted to say and what he actually said around Wendell were often two completely different things. 

Until that phone call, Aaron had taken some small refuge in remaining silent and letting Wendell’s impatience and need—and youth—do the talking for him. But what Wendell had revealed during that call demanded a response. 

Even if it hadn’t, Aaron would have wanted to see him again as soon as possible. But he had no time at all to do so if he were to finish his paperwork and head home to get Jack. But the weekend was approaching. He would have time then to see Wendell, if his heart could stand the wait. 

“Makes you feel young and old at once, doesn’t it?” Dave commented, drawing Aaron’s attention again. He instantly understood but didn’t answer. 

“What does?” Reid perked up from where he’d been leaning sleepily against Morgan, who didn’t seem to mind. He hadn’t minded during the flight either. 

“Nothing, pretty boy.” Morgan poked Reid in the shoulder and Reid subsided. Aaron had gotten so used to hearing “pretty boy” that he’d forgotten to think of it as a pet name, a lover’s name, for Reid. But that was what it was, whether or not Reid knew it. Other than the occasional “sweetheart” Aaron had never been one to give or receive pet names. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be, but the possibility made him stare at Morgan and Reid a moment too long. 

He finally took his gaze away from them and caught Prentiss’ raised eyebrow. She was politely requesting to be let in on the joke but didn’t look offended when no explanation was forthcoming. Aaron glanced back at Dave, though he could just hear Reid asking Morgan for clarification and being denied any. 

Aaron smiled, just a little, for himself and for Dave, but resisted asking anything about the age of any of Dave’s recent interests even if Dave’s remark would have warranted a question or two. 

Aaron’s phone was still in his hand, warm and smooth, just as it had been when he had last talked to Wendell a day ago. He watched it light up and then dim as he sent the text message and then stared at it in bewilderment when it almost immediately flared to life again. 

_Where are you?_ Aaron read Wendell’s text and then looked back at his message to see what he had written to make Wendell ask that. 

Aaron had spent an hour on the jet debating what to say, knowing that he had no time to see or talk to Wendell tonight yet wanting to hear from him. He’d wanted something that indicated his desire to speak with Wendell and yet which wouldn’t pressure Wendell in any way for an instant response. He’d thought _Did you have a good day?_ would be enough to let Wendell know that Aaron was thinking of him and give Wendell time to think about how to reply. He’d clearly misjudged Wendell’s need for space… or Wendell had read more into the question than Aaron had meant him to. 

Aaron wasn’t used to being easy to read. But in the span of a few seconds his thoughts were whirling as he realized that he must be broadcasting his current emotional state to anyone with eyes. He caught his mistake in the next moment and exhaled loudly enough to get Dave’s gaze back on him, though Dave said nothing. 

Aaron had told Wendell during one of their early dates that for years he had tried to keep all aspects of his job distant from his personal life. It hadn’t always been the wisest policy, it had certainly led to the breakdown of his marriage though he hadn’t realized it at the time, but Aaron hadn’t known any other way to balance the two.

He had told Wendell all of that, so Wendell would understand some of his actions, but Aaron had contacted him while on a case anyway, twice. Aaron had called him and sent him that text. 

Aaron hadn’t been able to, or hadn’t wanted to, go another night being home and not have Wendell know. During that phone call the other night Wendell had complained about that, rightfully for all that he’d taken it back moments later. He’d been worried that he was asking too much, about not knowing where Aaron was. Aaron had… had that problem before. He’d resolved then to tell Wendell some details about his work, and keep him apprised of where he was. He wanted to Wendell to know and he hoped that Wendell could handle the rest. 

It was a risky thought. Aaron let it linger anyway, safe inside his own head as long as he didn’t say it aloud and looked back at his phone. Wendell had surprised him, and a part of Aaron wanted to be surprised again. 

_At Quantico._ , he finally responded as the car stopped, then put his phone away and grabbed his go-bag. Laundry was also on his list for this weekend. Laundry and soccer practice and grocery shopping because everything in his fridge had to have gone bad by now. The upside to the ever-growing to do list was that he would be with Jack, who would have a week’s worth of school stories to tell him. It would be a trial to get him to sit down and do his homework on Sunday, but that was nothing to the sense of foreboding Aaron had as he recalled something Jessica had said about cupcakes and a school bake sale. 

His steps felt heavy as he and the team moved down halls, onto elevators, though not one of them looked as tired as they undoubtedly felt. Hiding their true emotions was a habit with all of them except Reid, who wasn’t good at it, and Garcia. It was why they loved her. 

But on nights like these the temptation to abandon his duties and simply fall asleep anywhere with a chair was strong. He glanced at JJ as they neared their floor and exchanged a knowing, weary look with her, two parents with hours to go until the possibility of rest. But JJ’s phone rang in the next moment, Will’s voice warm and just audible to the rest of them though JJ was given the pretense of privacy with averted gazes until the elevator doors opened. 

Aaron’s phone was a silent weight in his pocket. 

He was expecting too much. But the need to hear from Wendell, just to hear his voice and know that the other night had mattered in the way Aaron thought it had, made his steps even heavier. 

He reached for the handles to the doors to the BAU, but Prentiss took the door first and walked through ahead of him, her strides long and as eager as the smile she offered to Garcia and Wendell, who were sitting together at Emily’s desk. 

Wendell jumped to his feet when he saw them. His gaze stayed on Emily for a second before finding Aaron. 

“Well this is a surprise.” Emily spoke Aaron’s thought for him but fortunately just that one and not the rest that followed when Aaron met Wendell’s gaze. 

Wendell’s stare was direct for the first moment before it became uncertain, but despite the way his pale eyebrows drew together he kept his chin up. There was color in his cheeks that didn’t seem new, suggesting nervous excitement also indicated by the restless shifting of his feet. 

He looked flushed and hopeful and scared. Aaron wanted to kiss him until he was smiling. He had a feeling Wendell would taste like the caramel in the tin of popcorn that Garcia was now offering everyone. He also had a feeling that Wendell would kiss back and push against Aaron with his breath hot and his body hard, regardless of their audience. 

Aaron took a long, shuddering breath and then made himself continue walking into the bullpen. 

He could hear the others talking, catching up, explaining that Wendell had been working at the training facility today, and realized that that was where Wendell must have been when Aaron had sent him that first text. But their words seemed faint, distant, and they were interspersed with seemingly random bits of data that Aaron’s information-starved brain insisted on providing him with. 

Wendell’s eyes swept over Aaron’s rumpled suit and light five o’clock shadow and seemed to darken. Wendell’s hair was an artful mess, but part of his familiar blond swoop had been flattened, probably by lab safety goggles. There was a white lab coat folded up on Emily’s desk next to Wendell’s backpack. 

Wendell hadn’t showered; the skin at his neck by his hair wasn’t damp. It meant he might smell of whatever mad experiment he’d been conducting. Jack had an upcoming science fair. Aaron wanted to ask Wendell if he would help Jack grow his bean stalks but knew he wouldn’t when the image made his heart thump uncomfortably hard against his ribs. It was too much, too fast, for everyone, even if he knew Wendell would say yes. 

So instead of asking he opened his mouth and said, “Wendell.” It was loud and happy, but Aaron couldn’t feel more than the mildest embarrassment about that when it made Wendell smile.

“Hey.” Wendell’s greeting was softer. Aaron stopped directly in front of him. 

“Guess who was playing with gross dead things all day?” Garcia was almost bragging, no matter how she phrased it. Wendell rolled his eyes. 

“All the flesh had been boiled off,” he justified playing with gross dead things with an explanation that most others wouldn’t have understood, and Prentiss gave a mock groan. 

“So much for dinner.”

“Says you.” Morgan grinned. His hand was at Reid’s neck. It was Reid’s turn to look as if he didn’t mind. “Personally, I could go for some rib-eye right about now.” 

“You know actually that doesn’t sound bad,” Reid offered his opinion but then looked at Aaron. They were all looking at him. Aaron knew they were as exhausted from Atlanta as he was and he also knew that their paperwork could wait. He nodded and fought a smile when Morgan murmured, “I know just the place,” and steered Reid away with him. 

They all started to drift off at that, Prentiss after Morgan and Reid, then Garcia too. JJ shook her head regretfully and went off to her office. Like Aaron she’d rather get it done now than have it waiting for her later. 

Aaron looked away from Wendell for the second it took to ascertain that Dave had discreetly vanished and then he inhaled and turned back to anxious blue eyes. His throat immediately locked up and made him feel like he was twelve. He was too old and too exhausted to feel that young. It was unsettling. 

“You aren’t hungry? You worked all day.” He had to cough to get it out. 

“Are you? You look like you’re starving,” Wendell tossed his question back at him, but softly. Aaron thought about kissing him again, and then about the things Wendell had mentioned on the phone. Starving wasn’t the word. He acknowledged that with raised eyebrows, hoping at the same time that Wendell wouldn’t read that in him. 

He swallowed and glanced around without answering and after a few moments, Wendell moved on. “I can eat whenever.” 

Aaron turned back to him. The implication was that though Wendell could eat anytime, his time to see Aaron was far more limited. It wasn’t inaccurate. Aaron gave a short nod and then swallowed again. 

“You have plans tonight?” Wendell put his hands in his pockets. Unlike Aaron he did not look around. His gaze was steady. “With Jack?”

Aaron couldn’t help but wonder if Wendell was feeling anything like what he was feeling; if he was also stumbling around clumsily in the dark and hoping no one would notice. It felt wrong to hope he was, but he did. 

“Yes.” Aaron was still having trouble speaking. He felt like his voice was breaking again. It was not an experience he remembered fondly and tried to focus on something else. The movement in the room was a hum around him. His stomach growled. He decided he didn’t care about either of those things. “I’m going to pick him up in a little while. Wendell,” Aaron stopped and then spoke truthfully, albeit abruptly, about the other night, “no one’s ever done that for me.”

Aaron hadn’t felt he’d done much to help, though Wendell had told him at the time in that warm, breathless whisper that he didn’t have to. 

This admission was the least Aaron could give him. He straightened, because he wasn’t twelve and he could be up front about his feelings. “I enjoyed it, though it made me miss you more. Saying this makes me feel… foolish.” It wasn’t the right word, but it was all he dared. 

Wendell blinked, then wet his lips. He frowned for a moment and shifted his feet again. Then he looked at Aaron and gave him a brief grin that turned into a strange calm a second later. The light in his eyes was unfamiliar. 

“Foolish. I like that.” Wendell’s breathing was just audible. “But if you’re going to say stuff like that, we should probably go up to your office.” His voice was husky but even, and he waited for Aaron to acquiesce and start walking before he trailed after him. 

“So Atlanta….” Wendell’s tone was interested and yet casual. “Garcia said it was a pair and you caught them.” Wendell was close behind him, erasing the line between work and personal that Aaron had thought to try once again. Maybe it would never have worked. He imagined Wendell grinning at him, telling him that, _yeah, that was never going to happen. I work with you, remember?_ and felt his face heat at the obvious realization. 

It wasn’t inconceivable that Aaron had known that all along and denied it consciously because he’d wanted to keep some distance between them for as long as he could. He’d admitted to being worried about this, how it would turn out, long before he had ever kissed Wendell. He couldn’t walk that back now, he didn’t even want to try. But his own blindness was as startling to acknowledge as how much he’d hid behind silence. 

“Morgan caught them. I was simply there,” Aaron answered at last, taking the stairs fast and then slowing down once he reached his office. But his office was dark and cool, the shades still closed because Aaron hadn’t bothered to open them. 

He flipped on the lights and walked to his desk to drop off his go-bag. He heard Wendell close and then lock the door and lifted his head at the sound. 

“Fair warning, Aaron, remember?” Wendell whispered as he came closer, and then dragged his fingers through Aaron’s short hair and drew him in to press their lips together. Aaron brought his hands up to either side of Wendell’s face, but for a moment the kiss stayed gentle, their mouths barely open, their skin warm with mingled breathing. Then Aaron moved his fingers to let them slip through Wendell’s hair and Wendell took that as permission to move closer. 

The step back was reflexive, and hitting the shelves behind them was a brief reminder of time and place, but Wendell only followed the step to keep them together and Aaron wasn’t telling him not to. No, he was pulling Wendell closer to deepen the kiss, swallowing up the sounds he had last heard at a distance of over 600 miles. Wendell’s body was close, overheated and smelling of soap. He’d washed up before coming here; he’d washed up for _this_. 

Aaron’s body responded. His hands were rich with a mess of fine blond hair and he didn’t want to let go. 

Wendell’s light stubble brushed his palms, a gentle burn at odds with the force of Wendell’s mouth open against his. Wendell’s hands cradled Aaron skull for just another second and then they slid down over his shoulders to his chest. Aaron was still armed, but Wendell didn’t seem to care. He skipped over Aaron’s weapon, found his belt, and tugged at the buckle. 

Aaron’s wasn’t afraid but the bold move made him pause and tense up enough for Wendell to feel it. His pulse thundered in his ears as he watched Wendell pull back to study him. 

He looked like he was about to speak but then only licked his lips. Aaron mimicked the gesture without thinking. His mouth tasted like caramel. He’d never found the taste erotic before. 

This was as far as they had done in their short, usually interrupted time together. At least, it was until Aaron had touched Wendell’s cock through his jeans and left Wendell shaking and frustrated against his bedroom door, until Wendell had taken care of that problem by masturbating with Aaron listening to every slap of skin and sticky, needy sound. 

He exhaled and felt useless all over again. There was so much he wanted that he hadn’t let himself think about until Wendell had said those words, and yet Aaron couldn’t seem to manage to say any in return. He thought he should apologize, but if Wendell was expecting an apology, he gave no sign. He frowned, though his voice remained level. 

“Let me do everything for right now, okay?” His hand was already in motion, not wasting time with teasing. Teasing wasn’t Wendell’s style, at least not when it came to others. Aaron had a feeling that when it came to himself, despite his impatience now, Wendell wanted to be taken apart as slowly and thoroughly as possible, by someone who read minds and bodies for a living. His every response when Aaron profiled him told him that. 

But for now with Aaron in front of him and new to this, Wendell was being almost painfully direct and clear. Pants, boxers, were just impediments to what he wanted, which was Aaron’s cock in his hand. 

Wendell’s hands were hot, but the heat was nothing to burn in Aaron’s skin. The cool air of the office on his stomach wasn’t a relief, not even when Wendell dropped his eyes to stare, either at Aaron’s shiver or just at Aaron, exposed. 

Aaron was hard, aroused in a way he hadn’t been in years, the kind of rock hard that was nothing at twenty and everything now. He thought stupid things, ridiculous things, when Wendell hummed to himself, wanting Wendell to be aroused too, impressed, to fall in love on the spot, and would have blushed at his own immaturity if he could have. But he didn’t move except to wet his mouth, and once he did Wendell slipped away from him, slipped down to the floor, onto his knees. 

Wendell glanced back toward the door and then gave a smile to remind Aaron that he’d locked the door, a smile to say _don’t worry_. 

Aaron wasn’t worried. He was seconds away from oral sex, and his first time with a man; he could barely hold still to wait for it. His only worry was that he might embarrass himself by coming too soon, but even that small fear was blown away by the memory of Wendell saying _a nice boy with your come in my hair_ , as if Wendell wouldn’t mind that at all. As if maybe there wasn’t anything about Aaron that he wouldn’t mind, if Aaron gave him the chance see everything. 

He reached out when Wendell’s eyes swept up to his face and he caught the hints of anxiety in all that blue. He ran his fingertips through the dense silk and kept his touch light until Wendell closed his eyes. Aaron was rapidly developing a fetish for Wendell’s hair and he knew it, but something in the way Wendell sighed allowed him to risk more and keep going, so he curved his hands over Wendell’s skull and let his mouth fall open to let out one long, shuddering breath when Wendell licked him. 

The curl of his tongue was powerful. It was the only word that Aaron could think. No hands, no teasing, Wendell ducked his head to take him in. His fingers spread out at Aaron’s stomach, at his thigh, and then curled in like a needy kitten. There wasn’t suction, it was more than that, Wendell was easing down to take as much cock as he could, and then swallowing, swallowing with tight, working throat muscles before pulling back. _Then_ there was suction, wet and hot on the head. 

He lifted one hand to tug gently at Aaron’s ball sac, Aaron’s balls literally in the palm of his hand. Aaron breathed a little faster and hitched forward. This was what Wendell had imagined during that call. Aaron remembered every word but they felt different now. 

Wendell’s eyes were shut in concentration, he obviously wasn’t speaking. He only made a sound, a whimper, when he moved his head down again and Aaron trembled with the effort not to push forward one more time. He couldn’t think to tell what Wendell wanted, if it was more, or less, from him, but it would have be easy to thrust in, to twist his fingers into Wendell’s hair and pull him all the way down on his cock. His fingers curled at the thought and Wendell moaned. He was surprised, yes, but Aaron had his answer; Wendell wanted more. 

Aaron groped at strands of blond and heard himself make a rough noise when Wendell immediately took in another inch of his cock and swallowed around it. He could feel the wet buildup of saliva, the vibrating pressure of Wendell’s hum, mixed with the frantic burn of Wendell’s muffled breathing. He tightened his grip. 

Wendell grabbed at his thighs and eased back. Aaron opened his mouth but the apology for misreading things stayed locked inside when Wendell sucked hard on the head of his cock, his mouth pink and slick with drool. 

When he finally slid Aaron’s cock into his throat again, it went deeper, easier, and Aaron was watching, Wendell’s mouth, and his own hands. His grip looked close, painful, but Wendell worked him with murmurs and swallows and though Aaron thought he should be gentle, it was Wendell who read him again and opened his eyes when he tried.

Innocent but heavy-lidded blue eyes with huge, dark pupils were telling Aaron to let him work. Wendell was aroused by this, Aaron realized, very aroused, and felt an itch in his palm where he’d felt Wendell’s erection, however briefly. He wanted to take Wendell apart like this, but somewhere better than his office. He wanted to do more than stand and feel. But he couldn’t move with Wendell staring at him, watching Aaron watch him. He couldn’t do anything but fight back noises until Wendell shut his eyes and bent in to deep throat him again, then he spread out his fingers and held him there. 

It didn’t feel dominant. He could feel Wendell imprinting himself on him, ruining him for any others that might follow and had no doubt that that was Wendell’s intention. _Train him_ , Wendell had said, but then he gave Aaron this, his mouth, his throat, his grasping hands begging Aaron to finish, as if Aaron needed any coaxing.

He urged Wendell down, all the way down on his cock, and felt the fluttering of Wendell’s pulse and his momentary hesitation, then the desperate swallow and accommodation and the heat of his breath, all in just a moment. 

Aaron leaned back, letting the shelves hold him up. 

“Wendell,” he exhaled, easing Wendell’s back and then guiding him down again. His hips rolled forward as he did and Wendell made a sound Aaron would hear again later tonight when he was alone in bed. It was low and hungry and it slipped out of Wendell again when Aaron repeated the motion. 

If he wanted it… that was as far as Aaron’s thinking could go. He was blind, starving, and would have fallen if not for the shelves and Wendell’s hands clutching at him to bring him closer, to bring him back balls deep. Wendell made that sound again and Aaron realized he was moving, driving forward into Wendell’s mouth, fucking it with uneven thrusts that weren’t slow anymore. 

He felt Wendell’s hair twist around his fingers, heard the wet choke, but then Wendell was moaning, surprised and turned on, telling him it was okay and Aaron wasn’t stopping. 

“Wendell,” Aaron gave in and let himself say it again because he had to say something, to warn him. Not that he let go, not for one second. It was Wendell who took his hands away and let them fall down somewhere else, possibly to take care of his own erection until Aaron shook his head. 

“No, I.…” That wasn’t what he wanted, but he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t get enough air to say anything at all. He opened his mouth but the words were lost. He was panting as hard as Wendell had the other night, wet and rasping, his throat raw, empty. He wanted to put his mouth around something and bit down on his lip. It didn’t stop his groan. 

_This_ , Aaron read too late as when his bottom lip felt hot and throbbed against his tongue, this was Wendell training him, showing him what he wanted, and Aaron wanted to give it to him. He felt a surge at the thought and yanked on Wendell’s hair and came. 

The sharp burst of heat blinded him. It rushed down his spine and through his skin and then out of him. He exhaled and nearly stumbled back at the forgotten heaviness in his limbs, the buzzing, pleasant exhaustion that was completely different from any other kind. He grunted, once, and then felt the tickle of Wendell’s hair on his fingertips and realized he had been absently stroking Wendell for at least the past minute. 

A moment later he jerked at the soft suction of Wendell’s mouth finishing him off, only realizing in the next moment that he’d come down Wendell’s throat without much of a warning at all. He finally tore his hands away from Wendell’s hair but Wendell stayed right where he was. 

It was unexpected to no one in the world who knew them except Aaron, who stared down in startled bewilderment at Wendell, cleaning him up with his tongue. Wendell was gentle but insistent and Aaron was not ashamed to say he whimpered at the sweetly sharp attention. He was sensitive and Wendell knew it, because at the sound he took his mouth away and looked up. He wiped around his mouth and licked his lips. 

Aaron couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Wendell looked incredible. 

He ought to say something, though the reassurance that he was safe seemed obvious in his lack of experience, and everything else he wanted at the moment was centered around the idea of pushing his fingers against Wendell’s mouth until Wendell sucked them in. It was something Wendell might allow, but Aaron might enjoy too much, so he kept his hands to himself. 

“We can’t make a mess.” Wendell seemed to be offering an explanation for swallowing, as if one were needed. His voice was even huskier than usual and Aaron felt a flare of atavistic pride that he had done that. 

Wendell was still kneeling on the floor and since taking a step seemed beyond Aaron’s current capabilities, there was little he could do when Wendell steered him toward his desk chair. 

He sat, or really fell, down into it with another grunt. Wendell flashed him a quick grin. 

“You go quiet at the weirdest times,” Wendell observed. His mouth was red, not quite bruised, and his skin was flushed. He kept swallowing the longer Aaron stared at him. If by _the weirdest times_ , he meant, when Wendell was blowing him, then yes, he did. Aaron went speechless because there were so many things he wanted to say that he couldn’t say them. 

Aaron had to look away to manage words. “Thank you,” he spoke warmly and sincerely but frowned when he reached out and then couldn’t quite dare to touch Wendell’s hair, not when he could see what he had already done to it. He pulled his hands back. 

“Oh yeah, you know, I…” Wendell tried to dismiss it, looking more embarrassed than someone who had just done what he’d done should be able to look. Aaron stayed serious and looked back into his eyes. The anxiety was still present. 

“You don’t do that for everyone.” Aaron knew why he said it; he wanted to hear that he was special. It was just pathetic enough to make him frown harder and move on without waiting for an answer. Wendell had taken care of him, now he wanted to take care of Wendell. 

More than that, he wanted him closer. He wanted to watch him come apart, not just hear it. 

"Why are you still down there?” The whine in his voice was new and not entirely playful. Wendell grunted anyway. 

“I don’t think my legs would support me right now,” he admitted ruefully in his ruined voice and Aaron slid forward. He pulled Wendell close and then up, grateful that the chair was stopped by the shelves behind them when Wendell tried to help and stumbled on top of him. 

“Damn jelly legs,” Wendell muttered, but thankfully didn’t see Aaron’s sudden smile. 

There wasn’t really room for the both of them in the chair, but then Wendell moved his legs apart to straddle him and pressed _in_ with a quiet moan that wiped the smile from Aaron’s face before he could think to comment. 

He already had his hands at Wendell’s sides to hold him steady but when he slid them down over his back, Wendell shivered and turned his head to whisper under Aaron’s ear. “Must be nice to be the boss and have a big, private office.” 

Every word that came out of his mouth sounded rough and used. It made Aaron sit straight and angle his head up to allow the lazy bite above his collar. He was still hot, he still couldn’t think, but he could push up Wendell’s shirt to finally touch bare skin and he could read Wendell’s reaction to that and know what it meant. 

“It’s more work than you’d think.” When he wasn’t hard, Aaron could think, he could even speak. But Wendell just laughed warmly at him for trying, not quite biting him again this time, but letting Aaron feel his teeth. 

“Still has its perks though,” he argued breathlessly, and ground down against him, soft and hard at the same time. He was breath and weight and a pounding, rigid cock. Aaron would have spread his legs if he could have. If he could have moved at all, he would have pushed them both up and against his desk and let Wendell do whatever he needed to do to him to get off. But he couldn’t. Whether he knew it or not, Wendell had him trapped. 

_This_ was the tease, Aaron recognized. He should answer that they shouldn’t be doing this in here and that they most likely wouldn’t again, instead he was trailing his fingers carefully up Wendell’s back to feel him shiver. He turned his head experimentally and exhaled against Wendell’s ear. Wendell’s hands grasped at his chest and his shoulder then moved again. Aaron felt the pull as Wendell wrapped his tie in his fist and yanked him closer, but he didn’t fight it. It was too late for that. He let Wendell ride him and pant into his mouth. He felt like a patron at a strip club, weak and vulnerable in the face of a stronger, experienced sexuality. He’d cosset Wendell, he’d shower him in money if that was what he wanted. He would do anything Wendell wanted at this moment, even if that meant profiling him. 

“You like it in here,” he spoke quietly, looking past Wendell to the wall, to the door, and listening to Wendell gasp his approval. “You planned this.” 

Wendell shook his head, his hair soft and light on Aaron’s face. His hips hitched forward then rocked against Aaron’s thigh. His jeans had to hurt they were stretched so tight over his cock, but he wasn’t moving to unzip them. He grunted. 

“Not consciously,” Wendell murmured, not insulted judging from his labored breathing and the way he momentarily slid a hand down to adjust himself. “I just need to…” He didn’t finish, he didn’t have to, not with what he was doing. 

“Touch me?” Aaron asked, quite probably blushing but uncaring because he understood that, he understood it perfectly. Wendell jerked his head up and then they were kissing, an uneven push of a kiss, with Wendell breathing hard and pleading against Aaron’s parted lips. His husky whispers were almost obscene. 

“God yes. I need this, Aaron. I really fucking need this, just let me…” He murmured, as if Aaron weren’t nodding and pressing him closer, as if he hadn’t already allowed everything important. “Your taste is still in my mouth. You fucked my mouth.” Disbelief made him repeat himself. Aaron couldn’t believe it either, or blame him. 

“You wanted me to.” He couldn’t stop himself. “I enjoyed it.” 

Wendell slid down and pushed into him, making weak noises. He was strung tight, begging for release or just for more from Aaron, Aaron couldn’t tell. Aaron had to keep one hand on his skin but the other he brought back to Wendell’s hair, noting the catch in Wendell’s breathing when he spread his fingers through it. It stopped Wendell for one moment, and then he was grinding down in slow, fierce circles. 

“Weeks,” Wendell bit out, a little viciously, and licked a strip up Aaron’s throat, clearly expecting Aaron to get his meaning. Aaron made a sound and Wendell licked him again then came back up to kiss him, harder than before. If Aaron were younger, if he hadn’t just come, he would have been aroused again at that. But he had come, right down Wendell’s throat and Wendell was thinking of it, licking the taste into Aaron’s mouth and then kissing him again with uncontrolled, frenzied need. Then he ducked his head to bite at Aaron’s earlobe as if the hot swell of Aaron’s bitten lip were more than he could take. 

Wendell liked to have something in his mouth, he had said it himself. But he softened the bite almost immediately and Aaron can feel the fire in his skin is even where they weren’t touching. 

“You could kiss me,” Wendell had to know what he was doing to Aaron, but he still seemed surprised when Aaron obeyed him and urged his head back. Wendell stared at him, his eyes wide and inviting, his lips looking abused enough from the slide of Aarons’ cock to make Aaron feel guilty and proud. 

Wendell rocked back again, and again, into Aaron's body and then shut his eyes, as if he were tired of waiting. Weeks, was what he had said, what he had waited. But he had waited longer than that and they both knew it. 

Aaron liked kissing. He thought sometimes that he liked it too much, that other people would think he was old-fashioned or boring. But Wendell didn’t act like he was thought he was. Wendell panted against his mouth and groaned as if one kiss was worth everything. 

“Am I hurting you?” Kissing and talking seemed almost the same thing. Aaron hadn’t felt that in a very long time and wondered if Wendell ever had. He tugged, lightly, on Wendell’s hair before sliding his hand to the back of Wendell’s head. Wendell shuddered as he was urged back down against Aaron’s shoulder. 

“No. I like it, it means you like me—Aaron.” His voice caught, rose. Aaron slid his other hand from Wendell’s hip to his stomach. 

“I more than like you.” Aaron wanted to lower his head at the dry, embarrassed sound of his own words. He shut his mouth and pushed his hand down over Wendell’s fly and the hot throb of his erection. 

Wendell hissed. “I’ll make a mess. If you touch me now you can kiss your suit goodbye. Don’t, yes, I don’t know. Fuck, do it.” 

Aaron was so far gone it took him too long to understand what Wendell was warning him about. Not about his semen, but about Aaron’s _suit_. Because Aaron had to pick up Jack later and Wendell was worrying about that for him. 

Wendell had said something similar before, but not this desperately, with what he wanted at odds with what he should want. With what he thought Aaron wanted. Aaron hadn’t thought of his suit at all. 

He gave the tiniest shake of his head and pulled Wendell back up for a kiss as he pushed that zipper down and felt hot, slick fabric over a hard cock. He heard that hungry, shocked sound again and realized it was coming from him. He opened his mouth and curled his tongue against Wendell’s, sucking lightly, tasting enough to know he wanted more, and liking how Wendell’s mouth went soft with surprise. Then Wendell thrust into his hand and groaned and Aaron felt the wet, burning explosion against his hand, through Wendell’s underwear. 

It seemed unfair, not being able to really feel it, so Aaron kept his hand there for a moment longer. 

“You…. ” Wendell remarked without finishing the thought after dropping his head to Aaron’s neck. For a few minutes that was all he had to say as they both struggled to catch their breath. 

If Aaron looked up he would remember that he was in his office and that the blinds, even when closed, didn’t conceal all that much. He didn’t want to, but after a while it was difficult to ignore the itch in his skin or to not think about how Wendell was going to need to clean himself up, and soon, if he wanted to avoid discomfort. 

He cleared his throat and ran his hand down from Wendell’s back to his shirt, patting it back into place. He stopped when Wendell closed his teeth softly over the skin in his neck. He didn’t break the skin, he wouldn’t, but he left his teeth there in a soft plea. Aaron listened and held still. 

He didn’t want to get up either. He was tired and happy and wrung out with nerves and sex and Wendell was a warm weight on top of him. He could fall asleep just like this, sitting up with Wendell on his lap, and wake up stiff and sore and content. But there was work to be done, and he had to do it soon if he were to pick up Jack on time. 

His heart gave another thump against his ribs at the thought of his son. He wanted Jack to meet Wendell and nearly trembled at the thought because they weren’t ready. He wasn’t ready for that yet. Jack couldn’t possibly be either. 

But he glanced at his desk and frowned. If he did his paperwork at home, or tomorrow, he would have time to drop Wendell off, possibly even to stop for something to eat on the way though it have to be fast food. 

“I don’t want to move,” he admitted gravely, and swept his hand up to run his thumb under Wendell’s jaw. Wendell’s jaw was rough enough that Aaron had a feeling there might be marks on his face. Jack was going to ask. It was another problem to think about later. At least he didn’t have to worry about stains on his suit. Wendell had worried about that for him. 

There was another thump against his ribs. Aaron didn’t know whether to smile or frown. 

“Did I make you wait too long?” he wondered out loud after another few moments. Aaron wanted it to be a joke, one of what Wendell called his “dry and not quite dark” jokes that were usually directed at himself or at the general failings of human nature, but when he said it, Wendell took his mouth away with a sigh that sounded reluctant. 

He pulled back but not so far that Aaron had to stop touching him, and then scowled. Wendell’s expression clearly said Yes, but then he shook his head. 

“Not as long as we do that again,” he dropped back to mumble it into Aaron's shoulder. Aaron was surprised at his own short laugh. 

“Did you think we really wouldn't?” He asked it too fast. Anyone would have heard the anxiety he was trying to hide with humor, even Reid at his most oblivious. Wendell released his tie, let it unfurl to lie flat, if wrinkled, once again, and put his mouth back at Aaron’s throat. 

When Aaron arched his neck, expecting another bite, he got Wendell exhaling against him. 

“You just keep letting me do that,” he remarked, startled and warm, then pushed himself forcefully away. “You’re right, we should get up.” He slid to his feet, wobbled for a moment, then straightened and gave Aaron a sideways look. “Are you profiling me?” 

He was a mess, moving gingerly either because his knees were sore or because he had drying semen in his pants. Anyone who heard him talk would wonder and then know what had happened to him in Aaron’s office. He was also smiling to himself and blushing darker and deeper the longer Aaron stared at him. 

“Would you mind if I was?” Aaron asked seriously, thinking about pet names. 

“Like you don’t already have all my cheat codes.” Wendell snorted. He looked away and then looked back. “What do you think?” 

“I don’t think you do.” Aaron knew he shouldn’t sound so sure. It irritated people when he did that, it had irritated Haley, understandably, though sometimes Aaron wished she could have seen his aura of strength for what it was. 

Wendell’s mouth thinned and Aaron stood up, belatedly realizing that his pants were still open. He took a moment to zip himself up and look at the wrinkles in his tie and when he raised his head, Wendell was squinting at him. 

“Just when I think I’ve got you figured out, you go inscrutable on me. It’s very FBI of you. Like a redacted report to convince Hodgins of a conspiracy.” 

“I don’t mean to,” Aaron lied and then shook his head without asking about Hodgins. “Is cheat codes a reference to a video game?” He knew the answer but asked it anyway. 

Wendell squinted at him for another second then accepted the distraction. 

“Yes,” he said after a moment and then rubbed at his jaw. It might have been sore. It was another thought to haunt Aaron in his bed tonight. He moved closer, not liking the idea of more distance even if it was necessary, and Wendell stepped back against his desk to look at him. “How much time do we have?” 

“Not long if I try to finish my paperwork now,” Aaron answered instantly. But it couldn’t be over. It wasn’t enough time. “Or… I could take it home with me, and I could drive you home before I pick up Jack. We could… we could get something to eat.” He shouldn’t be this nervous after what they had just done, but this wasn’t about logic. “Or you could stay in here with me while I get it done and afterward I could take you home.” 

He was fairly certain that the itch under his clothes was sweat. His tongue felt thick. The room was unbearably hot. He wet his mouth. “I’d like to spend more time with you. I’m not always inscrutable.” 

“No.” Wendell’s breath left him in a rush. His eyebrows went up. “No you aren’t.” He stared for another second, then blinked. “It’s up to me? What we do is up to me now?” 

Aaron felt the line of tension pull his shoulders up and back though he didn’t know if Wendell could see it. But he knew if Wendell thought about it, he’d realize that he had already been making most of the decisions for them the entire time. “Yes.” 

“Why?” Wendell wasn’t moving. Aaron suddenly wanted to sit down and close his eyes, to go back to just sitting in his chair and resting with Wendell on top of him. He clenched his hands into fists and stayed on his feet. 

“I find I’m not capable of rational decisions regarding you at the moment.” Aaron heard his voice growing softer and flicked a look down at Wendell’s feet. They were still pointed in his direction. Wendell’s hands were motionless. Aaron looked back up. “I have to trust you to make them for me.” 

Wendell took a step back, as if that had thrown him. Aaron could see how it would. Aaron was older and more experienced in every way that wasn’t sexual. When he didn’t have the answers, when he didn’t _seem_ as though he had all the answers, people were frightened, or disappointed. 

But Wendell’s eyebrows came together in a frown and it didn’t seem scared or upset. It seemed thoughtful. Perhaps he’d realized that all Aaron had really done so far in their relationship was say yes. 

“Until when?” he asked finally. Aaron didn’t have an answer for that. Not a real one. The best he could say was until he felt more secure. So he borrowed a note from Wendell’s book and moved his tight shoulders in a shrug. 

It was funny how instantly Wendell relaxed. But then, unlike most other people, Wendell always seemed comforted when Aaron admitted to not knowing what was going on. But even if he weren’t, Aaron had said it and he couldn’t take it back. 

Wendell nodded. “Okay.” 

Aaron took a moment, swallowing and trying to appear to consider that. He did not leap onto that agreement. “Okay to which suggestion?” 

Wendell blinked and frowned and smiled, as if he couldn’t decide which emotion to feel the strongest. Then he tossed his head. “Either. Penelope’s nice, but she’s not the reason I’m here right now, Aaron.” He was about half a second from giving him a look perfected by his boss Dr. Brennan, the look that said someone was being stupid, or irrational. Aaron knew he was being irrational, he simply couldn’t help it. 

“I got that.” Aaron insisted but knew he sounded stiff and embarrassed. He was probably blushing. Wendell shifted forward, just an inch, and smiled again. Aaron immediately decided that he didn’t mind a little red in his cheeks. 

Wendell was studying him and not trying to hide it. Aaron cleared his throat and let him. 

“You’ll have to clean up if we go out,” he remarked after a while of allowing Wendell to read his intentions. 

Wendell’s grin only got wider, though he ran a hand through his hair in a vague combing gesture. Aaron’s gaze followed that hand and when he looked back, Wendell’s eyebrows were up again, probably because Aaron was doing his best to be completely, obviously infatuated. 

“You aren’t going to do your paperwork?” Wendell demanded in disbelief, his voice getting even huskier. Aaron assumed it was deliberate and wanted him with a newer, stronger surge of feeling than what he’d felt downstairs. Wendell’s grin shifted into that pleased, victorious smile that Aaron had already gotten used to. “You? You know what that is, that’s....” 

Aaron was a fool but it was too late to do anything about it. He knew exactly what he was. He knew what he was in three words, but as he leaned in for more of Wendell’s mouth he only whispered one. 

“Crazy.” 


End file.
